Deer Country Network

[ Deep breath, come on, you've got this. ]

...just because someone becomes a beast, it doesn't mean they stop being human.

[ The video comes on and it's an older, slender teenager with stark white hair; pale grey eyes and a strangely delicate bright red mark slashed across the left side of his face. He seems to be in a courtyard of sorts, one of Amaterasu's guardian saplings is behind him in full bloom. He's only visible from the chest up, but the chair he's sitting in has handles behind it-- looks like a wheelchair. Whatever is taking the video also appears to be a flying sort of thing that bobs slightly. It's trying to hold this video still, but really... ]

Most of you probably already know this. [ His head cants to the side with a lightly apologetic smile. ] Some of you might even be able to still hear or reach them despite that form.

But not everyone does, and it's still too easy to say "oh, it's safer and quicker to just kill them. You don't save monsters." [ The official creed of the Hunters... but he's diplomatic enough to not say that aloud. ] Or "oh, a Sleeper can just come back." Except it isn't just us. Someone else who isn't... most of them who were human... they aren't like us. [ He smiles softly, but in a way that doesn't reach his eyes. They hood, bittersweet. ]

They're just dead then. The soul suffers until the end. Maybe beyond.

It doesn't have to be like that though. [ He seems a soft-spoken sort with a lilted voice, but his tone shifts then and becomes more certain. ] They aren't just a monster, and they don't have to stay one. Even with what they've become -- the soul is still human. Some part of them still wants to be saved; to be themselves once again. And they can. [ Mostly. At least so far in his experience. ]

Some of us have abilities that can let us purify or reverse what corrupted them and bring them back. Some of us-- [ he pauses, looking for a moment just a touch overwhelmed as his eyes drift to the side, the smallest curl of a touched sort of smile at the corner of his mouth ] ... a number of us, we're trying to do something to change things. At one of the old monasteries in Crenshaw.

[ But he closes his eyes. Deep breath, you can do this.

He lifts his eyes back up to the "camera", his expression schooled now with a quiet sort of determination. Chin up, eyes forward. ]

My name is Allen Walker. I'm an Exorcist. [ Clearer, more certain: steady. Rung like a quiet bell. ]

Who's been able to save someone who became a beast?

[ More importantly: ] Who wants to?

[ It's more determined and clearer still. ]